In the Seven Woods. William Butler Yeats

Until two lovers came out of the air

       With bodies made out of soft fire. The one

       About whose face birds wagged their fiery wings

       Said, 'Aengus and his sweetheart give their thanks

       To Maeve and to Maeve's household, owing all

       In owing them the bride-bed that gives peace'.

       Then Maeve, 'O Aengus, Master of all lovers,

       A thousand years ago you held high talk

       With the first kings of many pillared Cruachan

       O when will you grow weary'.

      They had vanished.

       But out of the dark air over her head there came

       A murmur of soft words and meeting lips.